When you have to believe ‘that a kiss leads to a promise’, you have been fooled already.
I had a feeling, once, when the Earth moved,
that a kiss would lead to promise, just as young girls do;
I had a feeling, but I didn’t know how to be misled
I moved from city to city with a lost limb, pleading as it bled.
Loss ran thick and hot down my bed, my room, my street
My bedroom an abattoir,
My blood beneath the sheets.